


i ain't the way you found me

by loveinamaltshop



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Alcohol, Canon Compliant, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Future Fic, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Michael speaks Tagalog, Mutual Pining, Panic Attacks, Pining, Roommates, Sweariing in another language oop, Swearing, The Squip - Freeform, mostly fluff though I swear, two geeks falling in love, which confuses Jeremy a lot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-09
Updated: 2017-08-09
Packaged: 2018-12-13 01:42:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11749485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveinamaltshop/pseuds/loveinamaltshop
Summary: “You giant dweeb,” Michael shakes his head before bracing himself on the other side of the couch, getting ready to lift.When Jeremy starts lifting with him, Michael mutters “buti nalang ang cute mo, gago,” while staring straight at his best friend.-In which Jeremy and Michael move in together after high school and discover each other.





	i ain't the way you found me

**Author's Note:**

> Translations at the end of the chapter!

The week before their freshman year of college, they’re both buzzing with excitement that they don’t feel the strain of carrying a couch in a stairwell until halfway to their apartment on the 8th floor. They’re both laughing at Michael’s _unspeakably_ bad Terminator impression and without warning, Jeremy lowers his side of the couch, which makes Michael drop his side with a pained groan.

They simultaneously crash on it, laughing a little too hard and leaning against each other.

“Bro, we  _definitely_ need to work out more,” Michael says after a second, chest still rising and falling as he wipes his forehead with the neckline of his sweatshirt.

Jeremy lets out a non-committal grunt as his head falls back to the couch.

“C’mon! It can’t hurt to hit the gym a couple times,” Michael nudges him “You’d be such a hit to the ladies.”

“And the dudes, hopefully,” Jeremy chuckles before he stands up.

“Yeah man—” Michael freezes at the slow realization “Did you just come out to me? Seriously?”

Jeremy grins at him, before he moves to one side of the couch.

“Okay, how did I not notice? Is _my_ gaydar totally off?” Michael huffs, standing up as well, playfully placing his hands on in hips “Did you seriously wait till we moved to New York to tell me this? _While_ we're moving essentially the weight of three dead horses?”

“Is it a big deal?” Jeremy asks as he watches Michael “Were you waiting before you could confess your undying love or something?”

Michael’s eyes widen before Jeremy’s eyebrow raises, teasing and friendly. Michael makes a sputtering noise, followed by a string of incoherent monosyllabic sounds. Because, _yes_. “No!”

Jeremy waggles his eyebrows.

“You giant dweeb,” Michael shakes his head before bracing himself on the other side of the couch, getting ready to lift.

When Jeremy starts lifting with him, Michael mutters “ _buti nalang ang_ cute _mo, gago,”_ while staring straight at his best friend.

Jeremy makes a face at him, not catching a single word he said, before sticking out his tongue. Michael laughs and makes a face back at him.

* * *

Jeremy is about 40% positive there’s something in the New York water that’s messing him up.

Michael’s covered in the soft light that peeks from the tiny window in the kitchen, and he’s lipsyncing to Hey Ya! in his pajamas and his pink weed socks.

Something changes.

Maybe it’s how Michael eventually shimmies towards Jeremy with a wide grin because _first day of the freshman year!_ Or it could be how while they’re waiting for their leftovers to heat up in the microwave and Michael has a suggestive smirk on his face when the “ _just want to make you cumma, oh, oh_ ,” lyric comes on.

(Jeremy reddens. Michael, thankfully, doesn’t bring it up.)

He doesn’t expect Michael to lift him off his seat, both hands in his. Michael starts dancing with him in this elaborate swing routine and it _seriously_ throws Jeremy off because he’s got two left feet and he’s never actually seen Michael dance.

“Where’d you learn how to do this?” Jeremy asks, still disbelieving that his equally dorky best friend was executing a hybrid of moves that he can only attempt to shadow pathetically.

“Remember when I had to fly out one summer before 9th grade?” Michael grins, and Jeremy nods back “My grandparents’ 50th. For _weeks_ I had to perfect this, dude. I remember it was like, in this fancy ballroom in this huge hotel so obviously, there was a lot of pressure on us kids.”

Jeremy gives him a funny look.

“Shut it.”

“I didn’t say anything!” Jeremy bites his lip, stifling laughter that was more prompted by Michael’s glare juxtaposed with him still swaying along with Jeremy.

Jeremy can see Michael’s mouth twisting to hide his own smile “You were going to!”

“If I was going to say something, I would’ve,” he points out as Michael raises their joined hands and twirls Jeremy. When he faces Michael, he has a grin on his face.

“Whatever, man,” Michael finally cracks up, slowing their movements into a waltz, which surprisingly works when Michael’s Spotify switches over to Bills, Bills, Bills “You can't deny that my moves are definitely going to get me mad dick on day.”

Jeremy chokes on air, which he plays off as a playful chuckle.

Maybe it really was the water. That, or how Michael’s fingers are warm, warm against his pale skin and it feels so right.

In that moment, Jeremy was definitely fucked.

* * *

Michael tosses a coin one day.

He sucks in a breath, slapping the quarter onto the back of his hand. Heads. Groaning slightly, he tosses the offending coin into his backpack from where it is on the couch. He could, obviously, just decide not to but that would just be displeasing Lady Fate.

This was how Michael decides to tell Jeremy about his feelings one winter morning when they're snowed in. Admittedly, it's a little creepy because Jeremy kind of has no way to escape if he feels adversely towards this. Being roommates with him didn't give him a lot of options either on how to go about it all. At least, their classes were also conveniently suspended and it definitely put the both of them in a more relaxed headspace.

Jeremy is in his room reading over a new script for his Christmas production. It’s a tiny role but Jeremy had been so excited about it that he just read the script over and over, to “truly immerse myself, ya know?”

He pulls out his communication notebook and flips over to the back of it, where he'd scribbled several points regarding his confession. He takes a deep breath and reads over it.

 

  * __mention 13 years of friendship — NECESSARY ?? is this manipulative though?? :(__


  * _do not mention ever watching him sleep_


  * _or getting a boner when u two tried shotgunning ← ok for real how did i not know he was bi he suggested that what the fuck_


  * _show him the playlist i made for him?_


  * _maybe just write him a note?_


  * _all of the above?_


  * _i hate this_ _BYE_



 

He decides to write Jeremy a note. He picks up a pencil and begins writing carefully onto his notebook paper.

_Jeremy,_

_This is literally the stupidest thing, so feel free to ignore it. Actually, quick thing, if you have like absolutely zero romantic feelings for me, crumple this up and flush it in the toilet. Or actually, tear it up first because I really do not want the toilet clogging. That’s just nasty. Please don’t do that. Please just never let me see this letter again. I don't want any reminder of it either, so that includes a clogged toilet._

_So funny thing. As this letter may insinuate, I really like you, dude. I like everything about you._

_Just kidding._

_I’m actually really fucking in love with you so that’s a thing. I known since we were sophomores in high school, man. Ugh. Lame, right? I think I’ve loved you for so much longer. For sure, like, hella longer._

_I don’t think I could do half the things I’ve done without you, Jere. All our sleepovers and video games and you thinking that it’s cool I still own a tape deck. You don’t know how thirteen years of friendship means to me, okay?_

_I really wanna say a lot more but it’s probably going to be embarrassing stuff_ _like how cute you are ~~when you’re asleep or when you’re excited~~ _ _but I kind of need to give this to you before I EXPLODE._

_I love you, player two._

_If you made it this far, because you don’t think this is the creepiest thing I’ve ever done or because this is the creepiest thing I’ve ever done and you want to move out immediately, thank you for taking the time, I guess? I hope we can still be best friends. In any which way this all goes._

~~_Love_ ~~ _Sincerely,_

_Michael_

_P.S. Because yeah, admit it, it’s sort of stupid to fall in love with your best friend. I totally understand if you’re super grossed out. Totally. Like I said, tear up and flush. No biggie._

_P.P.S. I just sent you a playlist of a few songs that make me think of you in your school email, because I know you never check it. Again, if you’re disgusted, feel free to let it get buried in emails from the school. Please._

_P.P.P.S I love you. Te amo. Mahal kita. Puñeta ka._

He rips it off his notebook and fold it neatly. He walks towards Jeremy’s room and slides the note under the door, trying to make the sound of the paper against the wood as noticeable as possible. There’s a gentle tug from the other side and Michael feels his face burn up as he lets the other force take over and sprints to the other side of their tiny apartment — to the kitchen.

He whisper screams into the sink. There’s a thousand possibilities that could come out of this, and Michael can’t decide if he can handle any one of them. His heart is beating twenty times too fast. He decides to take inventory of the plates and is suddenly meticulous enough to inspect one for chips when the door finally swings open.

Michael returns the plate, and decides to move onto the cutlery. From the corner of his eye, he can see Jeremy throw a couch cushion up, which actually does make him turn to look at the other boy. Michael watches him grab an envelope before he walks over to where he is, against the counter.

“Did you legit just call me a jack-off in Filipino?”

Michael’s shoulders raise awkwardly, what could possibly be considered an attempt at a casual shrug. “It actually doesn’t translate that well, in hindsight.”

Jeremy shoves the envelope that he retrieved from underneath the couch into Michael’s hands.

Michael looks up, eyebrows furrowed.

“Uh, I wrote my confession like, the first week of the semester.” Jeremy admits sheepishly “You really don't have to read—”

Michael rips the envelope open in a frenzied movement, mouth still hanging wide open.

“Or you know. Yeah.”

_Dearest darlingest Michael,_

“Michael?” Jeremy’s voice fills with mild panic as he grabs either side of Michael’s face, surprising them both when Jeremy tips his head to level with his “Uh, don't read it in front of me, please? Not only is it ridiculously embarrassing but like—”

“You can explain it a better way?” Michael chirps hopefully, looking over at Jeremy’s lips.

“Dude, that's so corny,” Jeremy shamelessly _giggles_ , and it causes him to redden “I was going to say that I mention your smile six times. That's why there's a tally in the corner. And like, you do not need to know how many ways I describe it.”

“Dude, _that’s_ so corny,” Michael’s face breaks wide, a genuine, completely unprompted if Jeremy hadn't mentioned it, smile filling up half his face. “But do you?”

Jeremy looks back at him, then over to one of his thumbs which is stroking the high point of Michael’s cheekbones fondly. “Do I what?”

“Want to kiss me.”

“Uh, duh.”

“Cool.”

“I'm glad we agree on that.”

Michael glares at him. Jeremy glares back.

Neither of them really remember who closes the gap but the space is gone and all they really hear is the howl of the wind outside and their slow, focused breaths.

Michael discovers that Jeremy’s lips are soft as hell and he likes being kissed under his jaw the best. He also finds out he makes the prettiest damn noises he's ever heard when he does.

* * *

 _You don't deserve him, Jeremy_ , comes in a silky, honeyed voice that sends chills down Jeremy’s spine.

Jeremy bolts up, tears in his eyes and his nails clamped against his palms. He looks down, spreading his fingers before observing crescents of blood marking his skin. He feels his throat feel scratchy as he lets the tears fall down his face, trying to level his breathing.

He tries not to wake Michael, who's curled on the other side of the bed. Jeremy pulls a knee against his chest. His fingers dig deeper into the unharmed parts of his palms and lets his shoulders shake, sobbing quietly.

He doesn't look at Michael, who's bathed in the moonlight, the light Jeremy loves best on him. Jeremy feels his body shake and he drags his tired, tired body away from the bed.

_You think he's put up with pretending he wants you for two years because he loves you? Oh, you misguided child._

“Shut up,” Jeremy hisses as he sits on the floor in front of his dresser and feels for the glass bottle in his sock drawer “You fucking bastard.”

_You should leave, Jeremy Heere. Not even he could love a loser like you. And that's saying something, don't you think?_

Jeremy feels a loud sob escape his mouth and he clamps his own mouth with his hand. He squeezes his eyes, shaking away the voice as his barely functional, shaking hands twist open the bottle, where it sits between his thighs.

_Pathetic. Look at you._

The bottle slips where he's lifted it inches from the carpet, the gin splashing onto his hand and he _smells_ of it. His face is covered in tears and he _can't feel_ his fucking hands and he's never shaken so much in his life.

_Poor Jeremy. What would Michael think if he saw you like this? He'd pack up and leave. It's an inevitability, Jeremy. I've already calculated it._

_“_ Jeremy?”

“Shut up!” Jeremy growls as he slams his fist against the dresser “Shut the fuck up, you _asshole_!”

It’s too late for him to realize the voice was actually Michael. His cries are high pitched, child-like almost as he downs the bottle, glass mouth knocking his teeth, chugs the liquid. He chokes out at the sting of alcohol in his mouth. It dribbles down his mouth but he keeps drinking. His breathing slows and he thanks every god that comes to mind that he can't understand the garbled Japanese.

He keeps drinking as a precaution until he feels warm, and his breathing is normal, and there's two arms around him.

“Jere,” is exhaled into his ear.

Jeremy cries again, hysterical and pathetic, leaning back against Michael’s chest. Michael reaches over and takes the bottle from his hands. He sets it aside and pulls back Jeremy’s hair, combing it back and kissing over his sweaty forehead.

“Michael—” he hiccups “I don't want this,”

Michael looks down at him and Jeremy can barely see him through swollen eyes but there it is—moonlight and Michael’s kind features.

“I don't want this anymore, Michael.”

“Jeremy,” he whispers quietly “What are you saying?”

“I don't deserve you. I don't want this. Anymore, ever.”

“ _Jeremy_ ,” Michael’s voice is firmer.

Jeremy pulls away and grabs the bottle again, taking a swig. And another, until he feels just a little less cold and _controlled._ He can feel the other boy’s eyes on him and he puts it down, before he turns and places his back on the drawer, facing Michael now.

“I don't deserve you,” his voice is too high and he can't see _shit_ “Just leave, Michael, _leave._ ”

Jeremy sees Michael against the moonlight and honestly? He's pissed because all he sees is his silhouette. He needs to see his Michael in the moonlight.

“I don't need you,” he slurs after a few minutes of silence “Baby, please? Just fucking leave.”

Michael doesn't move. Jeremy can't see his face at all, and Michael is silent.

“Don't need you,” Jeremy spits bitterly before he points a finger to his temple before saying with a slurred, determined tone “Optic nerve blocking, on.”

The silhouette moves, a head cocked.

“Fuck, right, I'm drunk,” Jeremy laughs, shaking his head before it falls back against the dresser. He bangs it a second time before a hand grabs his shoulder.

“Jeremy, who's making you say those things?” Michael demands, in a voice that's too soft it makes Jeremy’s eyes leak with another batch of tears.

“I don't fuckin’ know, Michael,” Jeremy shakes his head, then it tips forward. There's no one there. Huh. Maybe the optic nerve blocking did work. He takes a moment before he frowns. “Undo.”

Michael isn't there.

“Undo. Optic nerve blocking off. Off. Undo.” he begs to the empty room “Michael?”

He hears the door open. A cold glass is being pressed against his hand and the moon doesn't burn through his eyes because Michael’s form is back. “I'm here, Jere. I'm not going anywhere. I'm here.”

Jeremy takes a sip of the water and it tastes like a goddamn oasis. He drinks it and doesn't ask for more because he doesn't want Michael to leave.

“I'm not going to believe you either when you say you don't deserve me,” Michael adds quietly “There's a pretty short list of things I won't believe if they come out of your mouth.”

Jeremy wrinkles his nose as he leans back, closing his eyes. “Mmf.”

“That's not a real word, Jere.”

There’s a beat before he opens his eyes again “Are you here?” Jeremy asks softly.

“I am,” Michael murmurs, hands finding his thighs, stroking comfortingly in a way that only he could “And so are you.”

“Wha— Jesus fuck, Michael,” Jeremy wrinkles his nose but his hands fall on the top of Michael’s hands “Was that a lame ass pun on my name?”

“I'm not above doing so, you know this.”

“Hear, hear,” Jeremy snorts. He feels Michael lean over and kiss his neck. He feels the smile.

“I do want to take it one day,” Michael mentions nonchalantly “For you know, reasons beyond making overdone puns to inform people of my arrival.”

Jeremy’s eyebrows shoot up. “You want to take my last name?”

Michael nods against his skin.

“Huh,” he says at this new, potentially life-changing information.

“I've kind of wanted to. For a long time.”

Jeremy chuckles happily, which makes Michael plant more kisses on his skin.

“I'll be Michael Heere one day,” Michael whispers into his ear before kissing under it.

“Nnngh.”

“Not a real word either.”

“I love you.”

“Now you've got it.”

Jeremy feels Michael’s lips on his forehead. There are hands that grab him from under his arms and places him gently on the bed. He feels Michael’s quilt cover his body and the wash of the moon over them both. Jeremy frowns at the harsh light from Michael’s phone where his boyfriend is texting. Making a slightly annoyed noise, he snuggles against the pillow that smells like Michael’s shampoo and the fabric softener they both use and before he knows it, sleeps soundly.

—

He wakes up the next morning, a ridiculously _unfair_ hangover and no Michael. The sun shines too bright in his room and the quilt is too hot and Jeremy's just _uncomfortable_.

He swallows, wrinkling his nose at the taste of his mouth before he stands up and grabs his phone where it rests on the bedside table.

 

> **if ur reading this, i’ll be back soon, swear. just a necessary transaction!**
> 
> **it's not weed, i s2g**
> 
> **you're still asleep oh my gosh i could marry you**
> 
> **but that's like totally illegal if i marry you and ur like ? asleep**
> 
> **jk just checked. it says nowhere that i can't marry you while you're asleep :--)**
> 
> **double jk that's so creepy :(**
> 
> **if ur reading this, check the fridge. drink as much of it as you can.**
> 
> **if ur reading this, i love you, Jeremy. work is fucking me in the ass. and totally not in the way i prefer**
> 
> **well i know what we’re doing tonight :)**

Jeremy smiles weakly. He realizes how thankful he is for the quiet apartment he usually takes for granted. He walks out and checks the fridge, his heart honest to God swelling when he sees three bottles of Mountain Dew Red.

* * *

“Is it weird and sappy if I say I'll miss it here?” Michael asks, looking over his shoulder where Jeremy’s disassembling their coat hanger “We lived here for four years, dude.”

“Is that why you're not helping?” Jeremy snorts before he laughs, dodging a throw pillow from Michael by a foot.

Michael shakes his head, letting out a sigh, as he begins placing their various knick knacks in bubble wrap before they find their way into a box marked “fragile.”

“What?” Jeremy’s teasing voice fills the room.

“ _Hay, mahal ko._ ” Michael tuts, smirking to himself “ _Kulit mo ngayon_.”

“English, please!” Jeremy sing-songs as he places the earlier discarded throw pillow into the same box as the coat hanger.

“ _Yoko nga._ ”

Jeremy is quiet for a second before he retorts “ _Buti nalang ang_ cute _mo, gago._ ”

Michael freezes before he looks over at Jeremy. There's a wide, arrogant grin on his face and Michael really really wants to open his mouth for a particularly deep string of Spanish to counter. Jeremy cuts him off first.

“Hey, can you grab my Blinky Funko Pop?”

Michael makes a face at him and grabs it anyway on the shelf. “Dude, he has like the weirdest laceration,” Michael says with genuine concern, finger running over the back of the figurine’s body “This isn't sellable, Jere. I tell you all the time to take care of all your collectibles—”

“Can you twist it open?” Jeremy says too hurriedly.

Michael’s eyes widen before he frowns, doing as Jeremy tells him to and nearly dropping the figure with what he sees.

He discovers a single silver band. It's a pretty vulgar concept to keep a damn _engagement ring_ in the character’s supposed _brain_ but he casts that thought aside for later.

“What the fuck,” Michael breathes out before he practically sprints towards Jeremy.

“Read the card,” Jeremy says, putting his hands on the insides of Michael’s elbows to slow him down.

Michael, eyes now glassy with tears, takes the tiny card where it was tucked behind the cushioning.

_So you can suffer with me when people think they're being clever with your last name._

Michael scoffs, rolling his eyes before he has Jeremy’s face in his hands and peppers his face and neck with kisses.

“You're unbelievable,” Michael groans, pushing Jeremy back onto the wall.

“Mm, that a yes?” Jeremy says with the lilt in his voice that is just so fucking _him_ that it makes Michael’s mouth hungrier, more ravenous.

“Yes,” Michael practically whines out “Yes. Holy fuck, Jere, I would've said yes if you asked when we were sixteen.”

Jeremy feels his hand tightening at the front of Michael’s shirt. He holds onto him, holds onto the damn figurine that isn't worth anything on the market now but means everything to the both of them.

He kisses his best friend, lets the world turn around them as he holds onto his goddamn everything _._

**Author's Note:**

> Translations:  
>  _buti nalang ang cute mo, gago_ = "it's a good thing you're cute, idiot"  
>  _te amo/mahal kita_ = "I love you"  
>  _puñeta ka_ = it's really an expression used if you're irritated/angry, but obviously, this was used by a romantically frustrated Michael  
>  _hay mahal ko, kulit mo ngayon_ = roughly, "oh, my love. You're mischievous today."  
>  _'yoko nga (ayoko nga)_ = "I don't want to!"
> 
> Gah, so here was a fairly indulgent piece that I couldn't get out of my head. Also, three songs that are definitely on Michael's playlist for Jeremy are definitely You Make My Dreams by Hall and Oates (where the story's title comes from), Nothing's Gonna Stop Us Now by Starship, and I Feel The Earth Move by Carole King. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed! Comments make my day and don't hesitate to hit me up on my [Tumblr](https://starkerpeter.tumblr.com/) too, friends!


End file.
